


El Ascensor

by bananapatch



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 17:38:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4488636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananapatch/pseuds/bananapatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things get heated between Amaro and Barba.</p><p>Set during the elevator scene in October Surprise</p>
            </blockquote>





	El Ascensor

“No te equivoque conmigo.” Rafael looks Detective Amaro dead in the eye before he begins to step out of the elevator, relieved that their little exchange is finally over. He's considerably less thrilled about his upcoming meeting with the DA, but he's fairly certain that's going to be a walk in the park compared to being trapped in here with the detective, with the feeling of his breath against his face and the sharp smell of his aftershave and that goddamn infuriatingly smug quality to his voice. Mostly, he's relieved not to have to spend another second trying to ignore the strange flutter in his gut that pops up whenever Amaro gets too close.

Even if he was dead wrong about Rafael's motivations for protecting Muñoz, Amaro had managed to slither his way under his skin.

“I didn't say we were done here, Counselor.”

Rafael halts when he feels Amaro's fingers squeeze around his upper arm, sudden and forceful and sending a shiver down his spine that he struggles not to let show. He turns just enough to cock an eyebrow at the detective, but otherwise doesn't move a muscle. “Oh?”

Of course, Rafael's muttered semi-question is purely rhetorical. He knows what this is really about. It has nothing to do with Muñoz, or the case at all for that matter. He knew it from the moment Amaro had followed him onto this elevator, although he isn't about to give that away; if Amaro wants this, he's going to have to work for it.

“No. See, I don't think you get it. Pero me aseguraré de que usted lo hace.”

Rafael keeps his mouth shut as he's pulled back into the elevator, which is so rare for him it's practically newsworthy. But he's too stunned to do much else as the door closes behind him again, as Amaro presses the emergency stop button and – to Rafael's dismay – the elevator does, indeed, stop.

“Really, Detective? Stopping an elevator? That's a touch cliche, don't you think?”

So much for keeping his mouth shut.

His remark doesn't get the rise out of Amaro that he was hoping it would, though. In fact, it doesn't earn him much of anything. The detective is just standing there, staring at him with an expression that Rafael can't read. He adjusts his tie, clears his throat, drops his gaze down to the floor, anything to avoid acknowledging the detective; not being able to read people has always made him immensely uncomfortable.

“Look, I don't know how many times I can say it. Whatever you think is happening with me and Muñoz is not happening. Así que es hora de dejarlo ir.”

Rafael finally forces himself to look to Amaro's face, and he's taken aback by what he sees there now. This isn't the same self-satisfied look that had been etched into his features moments ago. No, there's something undoubtedly nervous and uncertain about his expression now. It isn't a far cry from the look witnesses often give before revealing something they'd been holding back, some crutial piece of information that they know will change everything.

He doesn't get much of a chance to question it, though, as the next thing he knows there's the distinct press of lips against his own and the lapels of his jacket are being grasped in Amaro's anxious fists, and Rafael can taste the coffee on his breath and his lips are so much softer than he ever would have expected and it's all so much.

Rafael is fairly certain it's the best thing he's ever felt.

It's not long before he's kissing back with equal fervor, his body inching closer and closer to the detective's as if moving of its own accord, and the next thing he knows Amaro is pressed flush against the wall of the elevator. Rafael has to crane his neck to even reach his lips but it doesn't slow him down in the slightest, and the feeling of Amaro's hands sliding down from his lapel to grip his waist only encourages him to push forward.

Rafael's own hands have somehow found the detective's hips, and he runs his fingers over the leather of his belt, a shudder passing through him as he brushes dangerously close to his crotch. For what feels like an eternity he's consumed by the flurry of lips and tongues and he's nipping hungrily at Amaro's lower lip, earning the most delicious growl from him that urges him to push this even further still.

He doesn't allow himself to question the action as his hand trails down, down, his own cock throbbing in his slacks the moment he feels Amaro's against his palm, hot and hard. A faint blush spreads across his cheeks at the realization that he's hard himself, because somehow that little detail had managed to evade him up until now. Even so, he doesn't stop.

His hips are grinding against the detective's now, pressure building in his gut as Amaro breaks the kiss to suck more into his jawline and down to his neck, biting a mark into the skin there. His vision is all but lost to pleasure, whimper after embarrassing whimper falling from his parted lips, and he's in too much ecstasy to give a damn that his carefully constructed facade of professionalism is crumbling rapidly.

It's only when he absolutely has to, for the sake of his sanity, that Rafael finally breaks the kiss and backs away. He feels a thin line of blood trickling down his lip from where Amaro had bitten him, sticking his tongue out to lick it away, his breath coming in short, rough takes. At first he isn't sure what to do. He knows his best option is to get out now, before this gets any worse. As much as he longs for a distraction from the mess he'd been forced into the middle of, this would only serve to complicate things further. But he also knows can't just leave it like this. That's what Amaro expects, that's what he wants: the satisfaction of knowing that he'd gotten through to Rafael. And he'll be damned if he's going to let that happen any time soon.

There's only the briefest moment of hesitation before Rafael, ever an attorney, sinks down to his knees in front of the detective. Because if he's going to do this – whatever this even is – he's going to win. And something about the stunned look that crosses Amaro's irritatingly attractive face when Rafael looks up at him and the soft whimper that escapes him tells Rafael that he is, indeed, winning.

“What's that? Nada más que decir, Detective?”

Amaro responds with a growl, his hand dropping to Rafael's head, his fingers burying themselves in his hair. The gesture is all the encouragement Rafael needs.

A million thoughts are running through his head as his hand lands on Amaro's thigh, sliding slowly upward and feeling the hard muscle underneath quivering in anticipation. His suit is going to be wrinkled now, and he's going to have a hell of a time explaining why his knees are dirty, and there are definitely, definitely cameras on this elevator that are catching all of the action. He can't even begin to imagine how he's going to explain his way out of this when it's inevitably called into question. Yelina's face even flashes briefly behind his eyes, but he pushes the image out as soon as it enters. He has more important things to focus on right now.

Finally, he reaches Amaro's crotch, running his palm along his length, and the detective is all but gasping for air as he gives it a gentle squeeze. Rafael leans forward, mouthing hot kisses along the clothed cock in front of him, feeling Amaro's fingers tightening in his hair as he does.

“Hurry up, Councelor,” Amaro hisses, and Rafael can all but feel his patience running thin.

Rafael stubbornly ignores the way his own cock aches to be touched as he begins fumbling with Amaro's belt, going for speed more than grace as he unbuckles it, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and underwear and pulling them down in one swift motion.

He simply glances to the detective's freed dick for a moment, somewhat dumbfounded by the size of the thing, the head already leaking precome. But he doesn't let himself get hung up on it. Instead, he leans forward again to give it an experimental lick, the flavor not entirely unpleasant. At least enough so that he doesn't think twice before parting his lips, sucking Amaro's cock into his mouth and running his tongue over the tip.

Amaro's hand against his head is pushing him forward impatiently, but Rafael still takes his sweet time as he presses forward, taking the whole length of the detective's cock in his mouth. His cheeks hollow as he sucks on it gently, one hand still gripping at his hip for leverage, his other now palming his own erection through his pants.

Amaro is moaning uncontrollably, the sounds loud enough that anyone outside of the elevator can surely hear him, his head thrown back against the wall of the elevator. He rolls his hips forward, not even showing him the courtesy of starting off slowly as he begins to fuck Rafael's willing mouth.

The increasingly desperate noises the detective makes as Rafael's head bobs up and down have him grinding against his own hand with a kind of urgency he'd never experienced before; he's ashamed to realize he could already feel the pressure of an impending orgasm building inside of him.

The next few minutes are a blur of gasps and groans and the feeling of Amaro's cock hitting the back of his throat as he fucks his mouth at an ever increasing pace, and Rafael can barely even remember anymore what had gotten them to this point, but he's never felt anything like it before in his life. His fingers dig so hard into the detective's hip that they're sure to leave bruises as he bears down on him, sucking harder and smirking around his cock as it twitches in a way that tells Rafael he's getting close.

Rafael hears it before he feels it: a strangled moan and a cry from the man towering above him reaches his ears before he feels Amaro spilling down his throat. He grips himself through his pants, the motion of his hand almost frantic now as he swallows down everything the detective has to offer. His eyes slip shut as his own orgasm overtakes him, leaving him gasping for breath around Amaro's softening cock as he thrusts into his hand through wave after wave of pleasure that he's not quite sure he's going to survive.

When it eventually passes Rafael pulls away, confusingly disappointed to feel Amaro slipping out of his mouth. He's immobilized at first, muscles weakened by the intensity of his orgasm, and for a little while the only sound that echoes through the small space is their labored breathing. Once he's sure he can stand he does, knees shaking as he gets himself to his feet.

He turns his back to Amaro as he rights his clothing and smooths down his hair, giving him privacy to do the same, hearing the sound of a zipper and a belt being buckled. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grimacing at the stray drops of the detective's come now streaked across it and having to stop himself from wiping it off on his jacket.

He doesn't turn back to the detective as he presses the stop button again, the elevator whirring to life and taking them to the nearest floor. He doesn't feel like facing the fact that they're going to have to discuss this eventually, that what happened today had been the culmination of months of too-long glances and unresolved tension and was almost certain to happen again.

“Thanks for the advice, Amaro,” Rafael says as the elevator pings and the doors slide open, and his voice is remarkably steady, all things considered. He ignores his troubling urge to turn around and kiss Amaro goodbye, stepping out into the normal world without another word and silently praying for the strength to get through the rest of his day as he headed off.


End file.
